Just Another Tuesday
by Gwydion
Summary: [Dice, Camera, Action!] [Strix & Paultin Seppa] Here she was, trapped in a dilapidated carriage filled with barmy companions that was being pulled by a hook-handed ogre zombie. Just another Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Monday? Whatever day it was. (Takes place after episode 84. Rated T for mild language.)


Disclaimer: I do not own Dice, Camera, Action or Dungeons and Dragons. Spoilers through episode 84. Rated T for mild language.

 **Just Another Tuesday**

"I _hate_ this place."

The muttered rant had become a mantra for Strix. She'd said it over and over while despairing in Barovia, deep in the depths of Ironslag, and again in the stifling jungles of Chult. So it came as no surprise that her use of the phrase continued in the heart of the Shadowfell, trapped in a dilapidated carriage filled with barmy companions that was being pulled by a hook-handed ogre zombie.

Just another Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Monday? Whatever day it was.

Diagonal from her was Diath, arms folded and head against the window. The frown he wore was so commonplace now, as if permanently carved into his face. Even in his sleep, eyes closed and breathing slow, he looked troubled, fearful of the next thing he was sure to blame himself for. She'd known him longer than anyone, and every time she thought he couldn't get any worse, couldn't be any more hard on himself, something came along to prove her wrong.

Strix hated it. Diath should be jumping around doing somersaults or cartwheels or whatever fancy acrobatics he used to get out of trouble. He had no right to be sitting there so passively, looking like a child waiting to be reprimanded even in his dreams. Calm, collected, decisive, just a bit cocky - these were traits she once associated with him, but that felt like a lifetime ago.

 _In a way, it was a lifetime ago._

With a muffled whimper, she shook her head and turned her attention to Evelyn who sat next to her, also asleep - _Did constructs sleep? Could she dream?_ \- her lowered head bobbing with the movement of the carriage. She'd been doing that a lot lately, sleeping. It was strange, the normally too bright, too vibrant, too lively paladin being so quiet and solemn. When she was awake, she spoke less than usual, and her tone had become strained and melancholy, though she made feeble attempts to hide it.

Strix hated that too. While Evelyn's constant yammering about Lathander was enough to drive even the sanest crazy, the warmth she normally gave off had the power to soften the hardest of hearts. Admitting this out loud wasn't going to happen any time soon, but Strix missed her smile, her optimism. Evelyn shouldn't be sad. She didn't deserve to be sad. None of them did.

 _Well..._

Despite being quite aware that _he_ , at least, was awake, she couldn't be bothered to try and dull the harsh glare she sent Paultin in the seat across from her. However, as soon as it landed on him, it faded, as it always did, discarded with a tired sigh.

Their recent perils really had been his fault. He had chosen to put on that damned ring, ignoring all the warnings and their numerous pleas to take it off. His greed had divided them and dragged them to the Shadowfell, wasting precious time in their quest to free most of their party from the Death Curse, which even now desperately tried to claim them. Miranda was gone, Izek was on their tail, a broken dwarf turned to stone lay at her feet, and on top of all of that, everyone she loved and cared about was a shell of themselves, their hope and light sucked out thanks to remaining in such a dreadful plane for so long.

But one look at Paultin was all it ever took to keep Strix from hurling a constant stream of fireballs and obscenities in his direction as her personal form of righteous retribution.

He was different. Physically, yes, of course, how could she not notice how thin, pale, and horribly Strahd-like he had become under the ring's influence? But it went beyond that. After gulping down an entire pint of ale and smashing the tankard against one of the ice sculptures bearing his face, Paultin hadn't so much as glanced at a wineskin. Instead his eyes focused on nothing, clear but empty, ever staring out the window of the carriage and into the grey wasteland, his arm hanging loosely over Simon who refused to leave his side. There he remained, awake but limp, lost in his own thoughts, never moving. Once or twice she'd anxiously stared at his eyes, waiting impatiently for them to blink just to make sure he was still alive.

Paultin had never been one to hold a deep conversation, but the lively, often insensitive quips that used to fall from his lips so effortlessly were choked down. Now his responses were limited to unintelligible grunts, if any response was given at all. The wit and banter had been cast aside, replaced with suffocating silence.

A very big part of Strix did not want to feel sorry for such a selfish bastard. This had been entirely his own fault. He was to blame. Let him wallow in his guilt! By putting on that ring, he had brought the horror and misery to both him and the rest of their unlucky band. _But..._

But no one deserved his fate. No one should ever be manipulated and forced into killing their own family, no matter how foolish and greedy their actions.

Well, he was family to _her_ , anyway. As for the reverse -

"Hey."

Strix jumped in her seat, barely stifling a shout of panic at the sudden break in the silence. Blinking rapidly, she looked up at the gaunt man sitting across from her, sure the voice had come from him though there were no outward signs to confirm it. His absent gaze hadn't left the dirty window pane, and he sat motionless as he had since the very first mile, arm still draped over Simon.

Frowning, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "...what?"

A pregnant pause hung in the carriage, leaving her feeling antsy, wringing her hands and tapping her feet impatiently as she wondered if she'd really even heard anything, until finally Paultin opened his mouth to speak again.

"Promise me something."

A loud sigh escaped her lips as she folded her arms in an attempt to keep them still. His first words in... _how long had it been?_ And the greedy bard wanted something. Because of course he did.

"Promise you what?"

Paultin drew in a long, slow breath before answering. "I want you to promise me that if anything like _that_ happens again - "

"Uh-uh, nope, _nope_ , no - " Her wild hair flew in her face as she began shaking her head, gripping her arms even tighter as she tried to tune out the rest of his words. She knew where this was headed. She was not having this conversation. She _would_ not have this conversation. These would not be the first full words she would hear him say since climbing into this damned carriage!

" - whether it's the Ring of Winter or some other weird piece of shit we find - "

" - no, no, no no _no_ \- "

" - I want you to take me down, no hesitation."

" - no, NO! I said, no! I'm not listening to you! Stop it!" Strix reached up to grab her hat, pulling it down over her forehead as she brought her knees up to her chin, her head continuing to shake vigorously, a constant stream of denial pouring from her lips being muffled by her robes. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that before Paultin's voice broke through her defenses.

"Strix, I want you to calm down, and just listen to me for a minute."

Her eyes widened as the bard's words tickled in her ear, seeming to both electrify and calm her body at once, the magic lacing them registering right before she unwillingly gave in, heeding the quiet suggestion. Breathing slowed and sweaty hands unclenched as she at last peeked her head up to look at the one compelling her obedience. For the first time in this entire journey, he was leaning forward, looking at her, and what she saw in his eyes was not emptiness but resolve.

"Look. I need you to do this. Not just for you, not just for them - " he glanced at the - _thankfully_ \- still asleep Diath and Evelyn, Simon now looking up at him curiously " - but also for me. That - that was... I can't..."

Strix stared at him in forced but attentive silence, watching as his eyes broke from her's to study the floor, his mouth becoming a thin line, before looking back up, a gaze for once completely unguarded. His carefully built walls cracked as he pushed the rest of his sentence through his teeth, "...I can't go through that again. And I don't want anyone else in here to have to either. I need you to do this."

The rattle of carriage wheels over packed dirt and rock sounded almost deafening as Paultin's words hung in the air like a poisonous mist, leaving Strix's heart to pound and ache in her chest. She chewed on her lip but held his gaze as the magical compulsion wore off, fighting the urge to suddenly polymorph him in retaliation. Perhaps a scrawny, black chicken. _Yeah..._

She let out a defiant huff. "Why me?"

Leaning back, his eyes flickered over to Diath's sleeping form - "Because he's not strong enough." - before resting on Evelyn - "And she - she shouldn't have to."

That part of her that blamed him, hated him, wanted nothing more than to watch him suffer for his crimes - that same part of her could have agreed so easily. It remembered what happened when she tried talking instead of blasting. It remembered falling into a pool of her own blood, only saved by the uncanny timing of being called away to the Underdark. But that hurt and anger was not her whole, not even the majority, if she was being truly honest with herself.

"I can't promise that."

" _Strix_ \- "

"I can't promise I won't hesitate!" Quickly glancing around, she sighed in relief as Diath and Evelyn remained oblivious to the conversation despite her raised voice. She continued on, trying desperately to keep her voice low. "I've told you before - I want to keep this family safe, and that includes you, Paultin. You're my family too. You might be a selfish, greedy bastard with the attention span of a small child, but you're _our_ selfish, greedy bastard. I will always want to save you if it's an option."

Strix paused, averting her gaze as she again began wringing her hands. He was watching her with an intensity she wasn't used to feeling from him, an unreadable expression on his pale face. But finally she forced her head back up, her milky white eyes shining with conviction.

"But there is one thing I can promise, and that is that I won't let you hurt them. Ever. If it comes to that - if you're threatening them - I'll do whatever it takes to stop you, even if I have to throw a hundred fireballs at you. _That_ I promise you."

They both sat still for a moment, eyes locked, until at last Paultin pushed himself back to lean into his seat, his gaze wandering to the ceiling, his intensity slipping away.

"Hn."

A grunt. _A grunt? That_ was the only response he could deign to bestow upon her after saying all _that_? Strix's knuckles grew white as she ferociously gripped her robes, staring daggers at the listless bard across from her. _No. No fireballs. They needed the carriage._ She opened her mouth, a barrage of curses at the ready when Paultin's nonchalant voice rang out instead.

"So how did Diath react to the whole 'ice clone pretending to charge at him with the Sunsword' thing? Was his face hilarious? I bet it was hilarious."

Blinking in confusion, Strix slowly dug through her memories until she realized what Paultin was referring to, and took a deep breath. _That damned selfish, son of a -_

"No, Paultin! It was _not_ 'hilarious'! That stupid clone nearly gave both him _and_ Evelyn heart attacks! ...can constructs even have heart attacks? I - I don't - I don't know! Whatever! Don't you even _think_ about trying something like that again! You hear me, you - _you_ \- !"

Strix's diatribe broke off as she realized that her ranting and yelling had finally awoken the rest of their party. They both looked a bit disoriented at the rude awakening, Diath fumbling around for one of his daggers in alarm. Whipping her head back to direct a burning glare at Paultin for provoking her, she noticed something peculiar. Something she hadn't seen in... _damn it, how long had it been!?_

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Paultin's mouth. It wasn't vindictive or brimming with madness; it simply held a vague sense of amusement, like a child first discovering an adult's aversion to the word "poop".

He looked back at her calmly. "No promises."

The old, casual response was equal parts comforting and infuriating.

"What - what's goin' on? You two ok?"

Strix whirled on the innocent figure beside her. "No, Evelyn, I am _not_ ok! I _hate_ this place! It's _dead_ and _depressing_ and makes everyone _barmy_!"

Valiant attempts were made to quell her tirade by her now very much awake and confused companions, but none succeeded. All of the "calm downs" and "what happeneds" only made her more upset as that smug bastard who was the cause of everthing just sat there not paying any attention as he strummed away on his... on his mandolin...

Even the sounds of the carriage trundling along seemed to disappear as the quiet music drifted throughout the cabin. It wasn't his usual jaunty tune, meant to incite merriment and distract from the harshness of life, but rather a soft, calming melody, and as Strix studied him closer, she could see his hands shaking ever so slightly, the look on his face one of solemn concentration. Whether it was from a lack of playing the instrument or something deeper she would probably never know.

Paultin continued to play. Diath relaxed. Evelyn smiled. Simon watched the bard's hands, entranced. And Strix simply listened quietly, wishing vaguely that he had chosen the bagpipes instead. She'd always liked those.

 _Just another Tuesday._

* * *

A/N: The scene in the middle of this was bouncing around endlessly in my head until I wrote it down. Thought I should try and spruce it up and post it before it gets rendered non-canon by episode 85. Still feel a bit strange writing these characters, but hopefully I handled them ok.

As always, critics and grammar police are appreciated!


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